


Hill Street Zoos

by Thomas_Linquist



Category: Zootopia (2016)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-04-27
Packaged: 2019-04-28 16:30:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14453262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thomas_Linquist/pseuds/Thomas_Linquist
Summary: Based very loosely, on the 1980's show "Hill Street Blues". This story follows the officers and looks into the relationships of the characters. Cases are secondary to know the mammals as "people".





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This idea kind of came to me while going through all of the tales of Nick Wilde, reformed con-mammal, and Judy Hopps, over achieving fluff butt. There have been great stories about their work and personal lives. Minor characters have been expanded upon, and original characters developed to the point that it's hard to imagine the world of Zootopia without them somewhere in the back ground.  
> I've decided to write a story, based very loosely, on the 1980's show “Hill Street Blues”. It was one of the first ensemble cast cop shows. It paved the way for “Law and Order”, the various incarnations of “CSI” and other popular police procedurals. It was produced by NBC from 1981 to 1987. I haven't got it all planned out yet. Fellow writer and literary friend, King in Yellow, suggested that I should at least give a summary and opening now, so as to “reserve the title”, as it hadn't been conceived yet.  
> So, be patient, and the story will unfold. Note: Original Characters will probably wind up being named for the corresponding characters from the television series (A mix of character and actor) or will be mildly amusing puns. Be warned, you may want to prepare to face-palm yourself and groan now. (Anybody who has read my Kim Possible stuff knows what I mean.)  
> 

8:00 am: Briefing and Assignments  
The bullpen was its usual noisy, raucous environment. Mammals were standing in groups, sipping at mugs of coffee from the break room, or sitting at the large tables. Discussions about the weekend activities of off duty cops mingled with under the table wagering on, well, just about everything. The officers of Precinct One tended to be a very close knit group. They were picked from the cream of the academy crop, or by having shown some special merit.  
The door was pushed open, and two mammals came in. At first, to a casual observer, it appeared that the door had just been blown open. That is, until the black tips of red furred canine ears could be seen over the edges of tables. These were closely followed by the black tipped gray of long lapin appendages following behind.  
Nick Wilde calmly made his way through the chaos of the bullpen, coffee mug in paw. He tipped the aviator sunglasses he wore down, exposing green eyes. Anyone looking at them could almost see the mischief lurking somewhere behind them. While he wasn't trying to part mammals from their money anymore, he wasn't above running a hustle, usually in the form of a prank or sarcastic joke. After almost a year in the ZPD, the entire shift had been victim to something or other. Only a few weeks ago, Francine Trunkaby had received a lovely bag of roasted peanuts for her birthday. To add insult to the already cliché injury, Nick had hired a mouse singing telegram to jump out of the bag to serenade her with the traditional ditty.  
Judy Hopps bounced in his wake. The very definition of a morning animal, she cheerfully greeted her co-workers. While initially she had been looked down upon by the others (for more reasons than just her small stature), she had quickly earned her own place in the department. She had partnered up with just about everyone on the day shift at one time or another while Nick was still at the academy. Most had barely kept up with her as she spent her days enforcing the law. It seemed like she was everywhere at once sometimes, working to “make the world a better place”.  
Nick glanced up at the seat he shared with his partner. Holding up his mug, he cleared his voice, and got the attention of the officer in the chair next to it. “Hey, George, a little help here?”  
The rhino, George McHorn, glanced down and a nearly invisible grin came to his face. Reaching a big hoof down, he took the mug and placed it on the table in front of the empty chair. This was yet another morning routine. When Nick had first been assigned to the precinct, he had tried making the jump to the seat with coffee in paw. One nasty stain on George's uniform had been enough to ensure that none of the precious liquid would be wasted in future.  
Nick turned to Judy, who had just finished swapping gossip with Terry Fangmeyer. He gave her his right paw and assisted her in jumping up. She shifted over, and the fox scrambled up beside her, taking the offered paw in return. Fangmeyer just watched from her place in the row behind them. It always seemed funny to her, how he helped up a mammal that could just as easily have hopped to the surface of the table unassisted, never mind the seat of the chair. She looked over her left shoulder, and noticed several other officers observing the scene. A few whispers were exchanged, further back in the room.  
One of the current wagers going around was about the relationship status of the ZPD's poster officers.  
It was well known that they were close. The Night Howler case had thrown the pair together out of necessity. When Wilde had gone on to the academy, it was noticed that Hopps always seemed to know how things were going. Fangmeyer and Trunkaby had both caught her texting him at the end of shift, or over lunch. When they had casually mentioned it to Ben, out at the front desk, he had given a squeal that actually caused John Wolford (sitting in the break room) to drop his breakfast burrito and cover his ears. That afternoon, Clawhauser had put together a betting chart.  
Chief Bogo had officially “not become aware” of the gambling going on in his precinct. Off the record, he had his sergeant place a small wager on his behalf. He was sure that, while the fox was extremely protective and supportive of the first rabbit officer, it wasn't going to go anywhere. For her part, Hopps was quick to nag her partner about his work habits or push him to do things outside of his comfort zone. He'd seen enough co-workers pair off before, and this just didn't feel the same.  
What the rest of the department saw was Nick teasing Judy and making sly innuendos. In return, Judy led him around by his tie or a convenient paw. They didn't seem to have any hesitation about being in physical contact with one another. To most of the mammals who saw them together, it wasn't a question of if, but when. So far, half of the bets had been lost, placed by optimists who figured that romance was just boiling under the surface.  
The hippo who had been leaning against the wall at the front of the room snapped to attention, having looked at the clock next to the door to his left. He could hear the footsteps approaching down the corridor, and the rustling of papers. “Ten hut!”, he shouted, opening the door.  
Chief Akuna Bogo lumbered through the door, angling his body slightly so that neither his broad shoulders nor his horns caught on the frame. His eyes never left the pages he held in his hooves as he made his way to the lectern at the front, backed by the white/cork board on his left and a monitor showing a montage of images from the city's cctv cameras. The chief put the folders down on the table next to him, and finally brought his eyes up, taking off the reading glasses perched on his snout.  
“Alright, shut it and sit down!” All activity ceased at the thundered command. Seats were quickly taken and all eyes focused on the cape buffalo as he prepared to brief the shift and hand out assignments for the day.  
“First thing, I want to inform you all, that if I get the evidence against the perpetrator who posted this...” he held up a photo of pop star Gazelle standing next to one of her buff tiger dancers. The head of said tiger had been replaced with that of Bogo. It was photoshopped with care, and the picture had them in a very intimate pose. “on the bulletin board in the break room, there is a month of parking duty headed his way.” While the threat was clear through the whole room (and possibly three more in each direction), the glare was most definitely aimed at the fox who grinned smugly over his cup of coffee.  
“Why, Chief, you can't possibly imagine that I would...”  
“Let's just say, you are my number one suspect. This...” and he waved the photo expressively, “is going down to forensics. If they find your prints, you're going to be very, very sorry.”  
Through this exchange, Judy had a palm firmly planted over her muzzle, and was groaning to herself. It wasn't evidence, certainly, but it did firm up Bogo's case.  
“Moving on. It's been pretty quiet on the streets the last few months. The rate of violent crimes is next to nil. Nobody is under any delusion that it will stay that way, especially once the Bellwether trial gets under way. Fangmeyer, Wolford, Delgato and McHorn; you will be providing security for the transport to the court house tomorrow. Report to tactical for briefing.” He set a folder aside for the officers to pick up on their way out. “Trunkaby, Addison; you're being assigned to detective Bruin to assist with the break-ins down in Sahara Square. Remember to take lots of water,” Francine nodded at the polar bear two tables over.  
The chief had been jostling partners a bit, to get the “rookies” comfortable with the others. “Everyone else will be doing routine patrols until further notice. Hopps, Wilde, pick up your briefing about the trial from Clawhauser. I want you fully prepared before you walk into that courtroom.”  
The hippo, Sergeant Higgins, drew himself up to full height, taking the place of his boss, who was marching out of the room. “You heard the chief mammals. Get to work. And remember, be careful out there. Dismissed!”  
The room began to clear of animals. In teams of twos and fours, they collected their mission paperwork and moved to either get more coffee, or to otherwise prepare to roll out.  
XX  
The public entrance to the ZPD was a glass and steel facade that towered over the city's central plaza. The multiple revolving doors allowed access to mammals of all sizes, from the tallest giraffe to the smallest mouse. The grand lobby was a gleaming place, with Ben Clawhauser in his kiosk, beaming his smile (when not munching on Lucky Chomps or donuts) waiting to assist the public in finding what they needed. Awards lined the walls, and commemorative plaques honoring officers of the past. Behind the public rooms, a corridor housing pictures of chiefs of police from 100 years ago, to the brooding Chief Bogo, led to several offices, the bullpen, and a set of stairs going down.  
What the public never saw, was the line of three garage doors at the rear of the building. Under the tower of headquarters was the garage that held most of the departments black and white patrol units. Two of the doors swung up and a number of the cars rolled out. At the gate, they split up and moved out across the precinct.  
“I can't believe you actually put that stupid picture up on the board!” Judy Hopps gripped the steering wheel of her specially modified cruiser in white knuckled paws. “You realize that if you get stuck on parking duty, I'll likely wind up drawing paperwork?” She glanced over at her partner with a scowl, only to be met by his usual sly grin and her own reflection in his sunglasses. He was leaning back in his seat, his cup of coffee halfway to his snout.  
“Relax, Carrots. There's no way he can prove it was me. I stayed out of sight of the cameras, wiped my prints off of the picture and used gloves the whole time I was handling it.” The fox chuckled to himself, and took a sip of the black liquid in his paw, savoring the blueberry flavor shot that he always put into it. “He will likely have my computer checked while we're out, just to see if he can catch me that way. What Buffalo Butt doesn't know is that I farmed out the actual photoshopping to one of the guys down in forensics that owes me a favor. IF he ever traces the source, he'll be told it actually came from HIS OWN computer partition on the server.” Nick was all but patting himself on the back.  
“I just don't see why you feel the need to antagonize him. I wasn't sure he was even going to let you into the precinct, after the way you dressed him down back during the Night Howler case. If you'd been an officer then, we'd both be looking for jobs.” Judy shook her head. She remembered the look on Bogo's face when Nick had walked between the cape buffalo's outstretched hoof and herself in the Rain Forest District. Sometimes it seemed like her partner could talk his way into, and out of, just about anything.  
“It's called a hustle, sweetheart. Just because I wear this badge doesn't mean I want to loose my edge. It was my life from the time I was twelve. Besides, it was just a harmless prank.” He looked down into his travel mug. “Look, if it means that much to you, I promise I'll try to straighten up and fly right for a while.” He raised his right paw and put on his most sincere grin. He hated it when his fluff was angry with him. “I swear, no more jokes, pranks or capers.” There was a slight pause. “For at least a week.”  
Judy laughed at her partner. As much as he annoyed her sometimes, he was a big part of what made working for the ZPD so much fun. “Okay. But if you get caught, I'm gonna post pictures of you in the clown car all over Fuzzbook.”  
“You know you love me.” It was a joke that started with that first patrol. Now, it was just part of who the fox and rabbit were.  
“Do I know that?” Judy leaned over and kissed the fox on the cheek. “Yes, yes I do.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, I should point out that I have no rights beyond fair usage to Zootopia, Hill Street Blues, Hopps, Wilde and company, or anything else you might have seen elsewhere. All hail the mouse!  
> Lieutenant James Hunter is a composite of the last name of the head of S.W.A.T from Hill Street Blues, and the first name of the actor who portrayed him, James Sikking. I chose to make him a warthog, having read somewhere of a unit called TUSKS, in some fanfiction. Nick had a standing argument with its members, all warthogs.  
> Those of you who are familiar with me, know that I have an awful writing style. Nothing is really planned out. I give the characters a situation, and just wait to see what comes of it. The benefit to this is, it leaves me flexible for times when something hilarious comes up in conversation. The downside is, when the characters aren't speaking with me, it can be a long time before I finish a story. Feel free to berate me... now.  
> XX  
> 

And The Day Rolls On  
Francine walked up to the front of the room and picked up the folder that was sitting on the table. Her footsteps were deceptively quiet. Like all elephants, her feet were huge pads, designed by Nature to spread out her weight. In theory, she could have snuck up on Officer Hopps, provided the bunny had her eyes closed, and the floor were sturdy enough not to vibrate. It actually scared a few mammals when she seemed to pop up out of nowhere.  
She turned and looked for Officer Addison. The young polar bear was checking out the pouches on his equipment belt, and putting the baton through its loop on his right. He had only been with the force a few weeks, being from the latest batch out of the academy. His cousin, Jimmy Anderson, had introduced them when he came to his first briefing. She rather liked the kid. He was all excited about being assigned to the precinct, straight out of the academy. In a lot of ways, he reminded her of Judy, once the Night Howler case had finally been solved. He had that same, "make the world better" look in his eyes.  
"C'mon, Greg. We don't want to keep the detective waiting." She had an awfully soft voice, where one expected a trumpeting noise. It was even soothing, when she wanted it to be.  
"Coming, ma'am!" The bear called, jogging up the aisle.  
"Francine, please! You make me sound like some doddering old lady." The elephant gave a chuckle, which, to most ears, sounded like a gust of wind, just within the hearing range. It actually was more complex, being in the sub-sonic dialect of Trunkaby's species. "Let's go to the break room and grab a couple of the large canteens of water. If it's going to be as hot as normal in Sahara Square, we're going to need all the hydration we can get."  
"Have you ever worked with Detective Bruin before?" Greg looked up at his partner. He'd been paired up with Delgato the week before on regular patrol, and on parking duty with Fangmeyer the week before that. He was still trying to figure out where he was going to fit into the group of officers he had been meeting. So far, the only one he'd found unapproachable was McHorn, and that mostly in the morning, before the caffeine had set into the Rhino's system.  
"Once or twice, simple cases where we had secured a scene until he took over. I'm not sure exactly what help he's going to need." She opened the folder in her padded paw and turned pages with her trunk. "I guess there is a common MO to these break-ins, and Bruin asked for some extra eyes. The force has been short on detectives since the Ramsey twins finally retired."  
The two sheep had been staples of field investigation for the better part of twenty-five years. When they hit their late fifties, both had decided it was time to settle down with their wives and spend time with the grand-lambs. Francine figured it was probably going to mean a round of promotions and reassignments.  
She prayed that she would be passed over. In her fifteen years, the chief had asked her where she saw herself by retirement. She always looked at the ceiling and replied that she planned to retire in her blues, maybe with sergeant's stripes, but as a street cop. She had always felt herself to be a part of the thin (elephant size jokes aside) blue line, keeping the city safe and civilized. Besides, there were officers better suited to investigation. Wilde would make an amazing detective, between his quick wits, ability to read other mammals and seemingly knowing everyone. The only problem was, he seemed to be glued to his bunny partner.  
Judy was like Francine, and would likely retire straight off of a patrol. Assuming she didn't give in to rabbit biological imperatives first, and start producing kittens. Though given her apparent choice of potential boyfriends (picturing the rabbit dragging a certain fox around by his tie), she figured that children weren't really in the future. As long as Hopps was riding around in a black and white, Wilde would probably be in the seat next to her.  
The pair went to the break room and pulled a couple of large insulated canisters from the fridge on the long wall. As they went to go out to the front desk and get the detective's current whereabouts from the cheetah, Francine happened to glance at the bulletin board. Somehow, between the time she'd gotten a coffee before briefing and now, a new photo had been added. This time, Bogo and Clawhauser were dancing at the Gazelle concert. Bogo's uniform had been substituted for a white sport coat and matching bell-bottom slacks with a black button down shirt, open to mid chest. 'Wilde, you really do like to push your luck, don't you?' she thought, as she turned to go see Ben, and maybe snag a donut when he wasn't looking.  
XX  
Down in S.W.A.T., Officers McHorn, Wolford, Delgato and Fangmeyer were hunched over the large planning table that was usually used to plan raids or deal with hostage situations. The computer monitor built into its surface currently was displaying the file of Dawn Bellwether. The head of the department, Lieutenant James “bring 'em down” Hunter, was at the end of the table farthest from the door, with his back to the equipment rack full of batons, flack jackets and shields.  
“Alright, mammals. You will be moving Bellwether from the holding facilities on the border of Savannah Central and Tundra Town.” The stout warthog swiped a hoof across the surface, and the file was replaced by an areal map of Zootopia. He moved both hooves in a gesture to zoom in on the section he wanted. “My people will be on strategic roof tops in three areas around the plaza around the courthouse, and our armored transfer and unit trucks will be used. There are several routes that we could use, and today, we will pick two of them, and practice both routes in standard vans.”  
Fangmeyer looked up and to her left, and across Wolford, who was standing next to her. “Excuse me, Sir. I know you're the expert at this, but isn't that just giving away how the prisoner is going to be moved? Everyone knows the trial starts tomorrow.” The jury selection had been a rather long process, with the difficulty of finding twelve mammals that hadn't been affected in some way by the conspiracy. There had actually been some worry that there might actually be violence between those who might have supported the former mayor and those wanting to see her get life for the attempted murder of Judy Hopps, heroine of Zootopia.  
“It's not much of a problem. We will be in plain clothes, and look to most mammals like a group of tourists going from Tundra Town to the city center. We actually have decals on the vans to that effect. As you say, we've been doing this a while now.” Hunter snorted derisively. “Personally, I think we should parade the crazy ewe through town with a few of my people toting machine guns. Let the criminal element in this city know who's in charge.”  
James Hunter had been a military mammal, before coming to the force. In his world, things were more black and white than the ZDP's patrol cars. He and Bogo often butted heads on how to deal with tense situations, with the warthog opting for instant and heavily armed response, and the chief feeling that open aggression was really only a final resort. During the violent outbreak at Gazelle's rally in the main square downtown, Hunter had called in all of his mammals and was suiting them up. Bogo had stormed into the briefing room and stood in front of the doors, demanding that S.W.A.T wait until the regular officers called for back up before leaving the building. It had been a stare down that the cape buffalo had won through intimidation and the respect of his fellow police officers.  
Bringing himself back to the task at hoof, the lieutenant called up the main routes between the prison and the courthouse. “I'm going to leave the choice of routes up to you, McHorn. You will be riding shotgun in the transfer vehicle. The three of you,” he pointed at the predators in the room one after the other. “will be riding with the prisoner. Any of you ever do a transfer before?”  
Only McHorn nodded. The others shook their heads.  
“Two rules. Nobody talks to the prisoner, not even you, beyond giving direction. Second, nothing touches her. Things are going to be chaotic out there, once we get to the courthouse. Your job is to keep her safe until she gets back to the prison after the trial adjourns for the day. Much as I don't like what she did, she's our responsibility. Any of you have a problem with that?” Again there was only the shaking of heads.  
McHorn raised a hoof and looked down at the Lieutenant at his immediate right. “If I'm shotgun, will I need to be armed. Your people will be carrying firepower, I don't think I need more than my sidearm.”  
“Each of you will be carrying your sidearms. You will also be wearing heavy vests. I don't expect Bellwether is going to try anything. By all accounts, her time in holding has left her rather docile, even for a sheep. However, once out of the vehicle, you will all be targets. You will run point, while my people keep any civilians out of your path. Anyone who does manage to get past them, you are to shove out of your way with extreme prejudice.” McHorn nodded.  
“When he opens the back of the van, you will go into a diamond formation around the prisoner. Wolford, you take left side, Fangmeyer the right, and Delgato bringing up the rear. Keep at arm's length from the prisoner at all times, but be ready to cover her if anything happens.” Hunter looked at each in turn, to make sure they were all with the program.  
“Normally, the prisoner would be brought in via the sally port down in the garage. Bellwether's attorney made a point of demanding that she come in through the front door. Some nonsense about innocent until proven guilty and the ewe not having anything to hide.” Another snort. “I think it's a stunt, to try and get the press on her side.”  
With that, he placed a hoof on the table. “Alright, pick your routes, and be ready to defend those choices. I'm going to make sure you are positive about how you are going to react if something goes wrong.”  
XX  
Somewhere out in Savannah Central, Judy Hopps was driving the cruiser on her patrol. She watched traffic, looking for any sign of trouble, or any place that a helping paw might be needed. To her way of thinking, a police officer was not just an enforcer of laws. She was an ambassador of the city to the mammals, a personification of the oath all officials took to serve. It had been a little naive in the early days, this sense of duty. Now, it was tempered with the knowledge that not everyone saw police as benign protectors.  
The first few months, while Nick had been at the academy, Judy had gotten an education into the realities of city life. There were elements of the population that saw officers as “the enemy” and not to be trusted. Others thought that all police were pushy and arrogant. Dealing with the public had knocked some of the wind out of her sails.  
What really got to the bunny though, were the small children that were afraid of police officers. She would sometimes be in the park, and see them shy away from her fellow cops. Being smaller, and therefore less threatening, she had let the kids come to her, and ask questions about being on the force, and what they really did. Some of the little ones had been told by parents that, if they were bad, the police would come and take them away, locking them in cages and muzzles. She had gotten so upset, the first time she heard a child begging not to be locked up for not doing what she was told, that she had actually cried in the squad car.  
So now, she made a show of being friendly, helpful and trustworthy while out on patrol, to let citizens see that she was there for them. Chief Bogo had noticed, and arranged for a number of officers suited to the task to go into the schools to talk to kids and listen to what they had to say.  
Nick alternated between reading the pre-trial briefing notes they had picked up from Ben at the desk, sipping at the coffee in his other paw, and mammal watching.  
Most of the pages in the folder were transcripts of the statements they had given to ZPD officers (Judy having resigned, and therefore not an officer, while Nick was still a civilian.) after Bellwether's arrest at the Natural History Museum. Not that either of them was ever going to forget the hours they had spent chasing down leads, desperate to find out what had been done with the Night Howlers, and who was responsible for turning all of those predators into savage weapons aimed at innocent mammals.  
Thinking about the afternoon when he and Judy were in her parents' truck, he recalled her showing him a picture on her phone, and asking about the mammal. Looking up, he happened to see a certain weasel grabbing an item from a store front display and shoving it into a large pocket. He was about to get his partner's attention when she pulled the car over into the first space available. Judy had seen the same thing, being ever vigilant.  
Quietly, they both got out of the car, and fell in behind the miscreant, who, oblivious to their arrival, was in the process of picking the pocket of the antelope in front of him. Just as he was about to withdraw the wallet from the unfortunate mammal's back pocket, Nick clapped a paw onto the greasy furred shoulder.  
“Well, well. How ya doing, Duke? Still up to the same old tricks?” The animal nearly jumped out of his pelt.  
“Wilde! I ain't done nothing! Leave me alone.”  
Judy swung her cuffs, advancing from behind her partner and to his left. “Ooh, another double negative confession!” She practically was purring. “Not to mention seeing him stuffing his pocket.”  
“You won't take me in, coppers!” The weasel shouted.  
“I wouldn't even think about...” The crook took off at a dead run. “running.” Nick finished. He sighed and looked down. “Try not to hurt him this time, Carrots. He looked funny with that bandage on his forehead when we booked him last month.”  
Judy just laughed and took off after him.  
The chase didn't last more than half a block. Duke was so busy looking over his shoulder, he didn't see the mouse pull out of an alley. His foot came down just beside the tiny car, which caused him to trip. His momentum carried him over the vehicle and onto an elephant calf's toy wagon. The boy felt the jiggle and turned to look. Trumpeting in alarm, he let go of the handle and kicked the wagon, sending it rolling over the shocked mouse and up to Judy, who merely put up a paw, stopping it. Duke practically fell into her lap, whereupon she placed the pawcuffs on his wrists.  
“Duke Wesselton, you're under arrest!”  
The mammal sighed. “C'mon, Officer Fluff! You've popped me eight times in fourteen months. It's Weaselton! Can't you ever get that right?”  
“Sure, but we have such a good running gag going.” Judy's whiskers shook with her mirth.  
“You've been spending way to much time with the fox.” Duke replied, as Nick picked him up off of the sidewalk and lightly pushed him to the waiting patrol car.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own the characters of Zootopia. I don't have any rights to anything you may have seen in theaters or read elsewhere. If I have stepped on toes, I apologize. It's just a good thing I'm not a pachyderm.  
> Michael “Mick” Bruin gets his given and nick name from a character from Hill Street Blues. I had already given him the surname, but wanted to give him some depth. His look is vaguely reminiscent of Detective Columbo, as portrayed by the late Peter Falk. Michael “Mick” Belker was a detective on Hill Street with a tendency to insult everyone around him, friend and enemy alike, and threaten violence to get what he needs. I don't plan to for Mick Bruin to emulate that behavior. I picture him as more “Columbo-esque”in his style.  
> 

Great Day to Start a Trial  
Briefing 0800  
The bull pen was just as noisy as it had been the previous morning. The usual rough housing and conversation dominated the scene, though there were a few minor differences.  
Nicholas Wilde had actually been among the first of the officers to arrive that morning, along with Judy. Both were in their dress uniforms, minus the braid worn at academy graduation and other formal events. Their badges seemed to gleam even brighter than usual against the dark blue cotton, pressed smooth. Neither was wearing the usual Kevlar vest that they did on a regular day of patrol or other duty. They stood on the chair that they typically occupied, shoulders together and whispering in hushed tones.  
A few officers around them glanced that way, and nodded among themselves. Assumptions were being made around the room.  
They couldn't hear the actual conversation the partners were sharing. Nick had only ever been in the courts as an accused, back when he was younger. He had never even had to testify in a case before, so being subpoenaed to appear was new for him. The few arrests he had been party to since the Night Howler incident had been simple misdemeanors, and had never seen a court date. The fox was nervously going over his transcribed statements with his partner.  
For her part, Judy Hopps had never quite gotten over the debacle of the press conference that had followed the arrest of former Mayor Lionheart. It still pained her that she had fumbled the questions being put to her, and in so doing, hurt so many predators. That she had been manipulated from the moment she had accepted the task of finding Emmett Otterton didn't assuage her guilt in the slightest. She had asked Nick to give her a thorough catechism on how Bellwether's defense lawyer might try to twist her words on the stand.  
George McHorn was not in his customary chair next to them. After the briefing and exhaustive practice runs with Lieutenant Hunter the previous day, he had gone with his fellow officers to The Blue Line. It was the local watering hole favored by ZPD officers, and saw many an after shift group wander in to wind down. The quartet of officers had settled in for a couple pitchers of the house draft and got to know each other better. He'd had to call his wife to come and pick him up, after a couple of hours, but had been proud to introduce her to his colleagues.  
Now he was huddled in with his friends. (It was still awkward, thinking of them that way. He'd been a loner since before the academy.) They had been going back and forth over the plans for the transfer of Bellwether. The trip from the prison to the courthouse didn't bother them. It was the short seconds between the van and the building. In the course of unwinding, the group had gotten to know each other much better, and were confident that they could work well as a unit. Once in a while, one of the group would bring up a joke told the night before. The resulting laughter caught the attention of several other officers in the room, and the smiles would be contagious.  
Two polar bears were sitting together and playing a quick hand of gin rummy before the briefing was due to start. Jimmy Anderson and Greg Addison were cousins, and, despite a couple of years difference in age, were closer than siblings. Greg had opted to go to the academy after hearing how proud Jim was to be a police officer. It was something that their families had celebrated, inviting half of the neighborhood in Tundratown to the party celebrating Greg's graduation and appointment to Precinct One. The younger ursine called the game when he saw Officer Trunkaby enter the room. He bumped fists with Anderson and went to meet her as she sat down.  
They had only been partnered for a day, but had already gotten to enjoy each other's company. Francine was quick to laugh, and treated the rookie cop like a younger brother. He looked up to her, figuratively as well as literally. In return, she was quick to consider his thoughts. In the short time they had worked with Detective Bruin, they had gone over the case files, and come up with a few theories about the break-ins. After sharing them with the grizzly, the pair had gone to look at the scenes themselves. Over coffee, they had shared their different perspectives on being police officers.  
Sergeant Higgins looked at the clock, and then stepped behind the lectern. The monitor behind and to the right of him was displaying live shots from the cameras surrounding the City Central Plaza. Already there were crowds of mammals gathering for the opening of the trial of Dawn Bellwether.  
“Ten hut!” the hippo shouted, a little louder than usual.  
The animals in the room took their seats, though some were sitting in different places than normal.  
“As you can see, Chief Bogo is not here this morning, mammals. He was summoned to the Mayor's office for a special meeting regarding today's activities.” He looked down at the papers in front of him. “He has left me specific instructions, and expects them to be followed to the letter. Firstly, Officers Hopps and Wilde are to report to conference room A, right after briefing. The Public Relations liaison will be briefing you. A lot is riding on this for the ZPD.”  
Shuffling to another page, he looked over at four other officers. “McHorn, Wolford, Delgato and Fangmeyer will report to Lieutenant Hunter down in S.W.A.T to gear up and move out for the prisoner transfer.”  
“Trunkaby and Addison, you are to take a car and report to the address in this file.” Higgins held up a folder. “There's been another break and enter in Sahara Square. Detective Bruin will meet you there. Go now, before the scene is contaminated.” The elephant and polar bear jumped from their chairs and saluted, collecting the folder on their way past the hippo.”  
“Everyone else is to run patrols. As you can see from the monitors, things are tense out there. With this trial, there is a threat of violence as bad as what happened at the Gazelle rally. Keep your radios on, but maintain radio silence except in case of emergency.”  
The papers were put down on the lectern and the sergeant tried to put on a stern expression. He only half succeeded. From a pocket, he pulled the altered photo of Chief Bogo that had been on the bulletin board after briefing the previous day. Looking at Nick, he delivered a message. “While there is no evidence pointing to who put this up yesterday, the Chief has assured me that if this 'nonsense' does not cease and desist as of this moment...” He clicked a remote for the monitor, and the montage from the closed circuit cameras was replaced with a still image. “this will be posted to every social media network that he can possibly create an account for.”  
Nick's jaw dropped. On the screen was a picture of his young self at a very... awkward time in his life. It seemed that, at some point in his checkered past, he had been the front mammal for a boy band. The photo showed him dancing at some night club venue, in a t-shirt covered with a purple vest, and jeans that hung preposterously low. The room broke out into laughter, with the exception of the fox, who was doing his best to slink down below the table.  
Higgins grinned at the fox and clicked the remote again, and the feeds from the cameras in the plaza replaced the still. “Remember, be careful out there. Especially you, Wilde. Dismissed!”  
Judy looked at her partner with a look of such glee on her face, it was comical. “Bogo hustled you, sweetheart. He hustled you good! Boom!” She was practically bouncing off the chair.  
Nick dropped his face into his paws muttering to himself. With her extra sharp hearing, only the bunny heard what he was saying. “It's the tax evasion thing all over again!”  
XX  
Francine's patrol car was massively proportioned, even more so than most of the other black and white units. The only other officer who could even come close to managing the vehicle was George McHorn, provided he pulled the seat as far forward as possible, and sat on the thick cushion which resided on the floor on the passenger side when not needed. Addison reached up for the handle of the door and used it to pull himself into the vehicle.  
“If nothing else, being partnered with you has the perk of a nice spacious ride.” Greg fastened the seat belt and stretched out. He feet barely reached the edge of the seat, and even with the cushion, he could only just see over the edge of the window. “You know, if I'm lucky enough to draw regular patrols with you, Fran, I may have to ask the department to put in some kind of booster seat. Nature help me, Jimmy would never let me live it down.” He couldn't decide whether to groan or chuckle at the thought.  
“Don't worry, buddy. Anybody razzes you too much, they can deal with the threat of my stomping on them.” She smiled at him and bumped him on the shoulder with her trunk. In just a few short hours, one shift studying case files, and breaks over coffee, she had gotten supremely comfortable with the predator officer. He didn't know it yet, but she had already put in a request for Addison to be assigned to her permanently, once the standard probationary period was over. Having seniority did have it's privileges.  
The duo drove through the barrier wall that separated Sahara Square from the city center. The heat and glare of the sun instantly started the temperature in the squad car to rise. Where the African elephant was able to deal with the heat, the already warm polar bear began to seriously over heat. Francine reached over without asking and turned the air conditioning unit up to a high setting, adjusting the vents in the center console so that they were aimed at her friend. He had punched up the address on the on board GPS unit.  
Detective Bruin, a grizzly bear with graying fur around his muzzle and ears, was leaning against his unmarked unit. He had already strung up some of the ubiquitous yellow tape around the building. When he saw the black and white pull up, he straightened up and pulled the toothpick out of his maw. He slipped it into a pocket of the stained khaki colored trench coat that he favored, which currently was lying on the hood. Michael “Mick” Bruin was a walking, talking cliché, and loved it that way. It tended to put victims at ease, and led suspects to underestimate him. He would have worn a battered fedora, but his wife had drawn the line at the rumpled, ill fitting suit.  
“Is it the same MO as the others, Sir?” Greg asked, climbing down from the seat. “An unlocked window, high up on a wall in the alley?” The case files had shown no sign of forced entry. An examination of the crime scene photos had shown that all of the sites had all demonstrated a similar possible entry point. Reaching into the foot-well on the passenger side he retrieved a box of forensic tools and pulled the strap of a high resolution digital camera over his head, hanging it down on his chest.  
“Yep, but no real sign of how a perp would get up to it. No ladders, no boxes.”  
“That fits in with our theory, actually.” Francine looked down at the detective. “A lot of mammals figure that if a window is high enough, there isn't really a need to secure it.” The trio ducked under the crime scene tape. (More accurately, the bears ducked. Addison pulled it down so that Trunkaby could step over it, not unlike a prize fighter entering the ring.) Greg led his colleagues down the alley, Francine having to squeeze in her shoulders a bit. He walked with his head down looking in the dirt layers on the ground.  
When they got to a point a few feet from the window, he pointed at the prints and scuffs ahead of him. “There. Look at that, just as we thought, Fran. Hoof marks.” He pulled a number tag from the tool box and placed it near the closest print. Putting the camera to his eye, he focused and snapped a couple of pictures. As a group, the officers moved forward. Along with the hoof marks, there were foot prints that had claws at the toes. Similar images were taken of them.  
Mick looked down and then got down on all fours. He took a deep sniff. “I may not have the nose of Officer Wolford, but I smell a member of the weasel family.” While the scent was not admissible in court, it was still a valuable tool. “I'll wager that those hoof prints will match a giraffe. It might not be enough to get an ID, but it's something.”  
A couple of hours later, and the only other evidence they could find was a few scratches on the sill of the window that had been used to gain entry. The security cameras of the jewelry store had all been pointed at the doors and lower windows, and shortly after two am, the feeds had gone dead, the cables pulled from the rear jacks on the units.  
“I think we need some insider information.” Francine told the detective as they prepared to part ways. She looked at the watch on her wrist. “I think there's someplace we can go to get what we need, but he isn't going to talk to us. Unfortunately, our link is sitting in the court room now.”  
XX  
The transfer van was backed up to the inner door of the prison sally port. John Wolford watched as the prison guard unlocked the pawcuffs from Dawn Bellwether. Pushing the ewe slightly forward, the mule deer watched as he pulled his own cuffs and put them on the prisoner's wrists. She had already been allowed to change from her orange jump suit into something more dignified.  
'She certainly doesn't seem so dangerous.' the wolf thought to himself. Taking her by the elbow, he escorted her to the open doors of the van. Very gently, he helped her up and to a seat, where he belted her in securely. He took a seat across from Bellwether. Fangmeyer and Delgato were already in their places. The lion slapped a palm against the side of the armored vehicle, and at the signal, George McHorn closed the doors and secured them from the outside. Wolford took a chain from around his neck, and used the key to lock the doors from the inside. This had been part of the routine that Lieutenant James Hunter had run them through.  
True to the regulations, nobody in the back of the van spoke.  
Verbally that is. Dawn Bellwether was speaking volumes with her eyes and scent. She looked at each of the officers, and it was clear she was frightened. All three of them could smell the fear emanating from her. It had to be hard, being locked up in a confined space with three predators, when her actions had been intended to harm carnivores.  
John had been struggling with this assignment. As a predator, he was indignant at the lengths the ewe had taken to ensure her rise to power. However, he had some perspective into her point of view.  
Wolford had been raised by a middle aged ewe. His parents had been wealthy mammals. They were away a great deal of the time, and had left him with a nanny, so that their careers and volunteer work didn't interfere with his education. Emiline Sweets had been as good as family, even living with the Wolfords on the large estate out in the Woodland District. She had been accosted by toughs when she was out shopping one day. Predators that felt she had no business being in such close relations with a wolf family. It had been the push that firmed up his decision to join the academy.  
He knew how helpless and unappreciated some prey mammals could feel. While he didn't condone her actions, John could understand her motives. When he caught her eyes looking at him, he tried to smile sympathetically at her. Her scent changed, from frightened, to confused.  
All of this time, the van had been traveling George McHorn's preferred route, with one of Hunter's best mammals, a very large hippo in riot gear, behind the wheel. It pulled up to the curb in Central Plaza. The rhino stepped down from his seat and walked to the back of the van. At the same time, Hunter and his team filed out of their own armored unit and stationed themselves along the barricades which created a path between the street and the door of the courthouse. Once the officers were all in place, the Lieutenant gave the nod, and McHorn slapped the back doors three times. He then turned his key in the outer lock.  
At the signal, Wolford turned his key, and the door was opened. Fangmeyer and Delgato were already out of their seats. The tigress reached down and unbuckled the prisoner's seat belt. She helped her up and gently pushed her toward the exit. The wolf jumped down and extended a paw, which Bellwether took in both of hers, gratefully accepting his help to descend. As planned, the four officers took up a diamond formation around the ewe, and began a measured pace toward the door.  
As the group approached the mid point, there was a commotion to the left. A group of timber wolves started tussling with one of the S.W.A.T members. Before his teammates could reach them, one wolf broke away and threw a large rock at the center of the formation.  
“Down!” Wolford reached for Bellwether and shoved her to the ground. He covered her with his own body. The rock hit the shoulder of his Kevlar vest, and bounced, hitting him in the skull behind his left ear. Blood trickled from the wound. He had his arms wrapped securely around the ewe, who, curled up under him, felt the blood fall into the wool of her cheek.  
“Why?” The one word was all Dawn could bring herself to ask. Her tears mingled with John's blood.  
“Pred or prey, guilty or innocent, I swore to protect and serve.” John whispered back. To hell with the rules about talking to the prisoner. He looked around, and saw S.W.A.T dealing with the wolves. One had tried to run, but one of Hunter's snipers had picked him off and embedded a tranquilizer dart into his buttocks before he had gotten more than a few yards. “Besides, I knew a female like you once, and she taught me respect. She even wore the wool on her head the same way.” He pushed himself up, one paw on either side of his prisoner, and reached down while his teammates kept them covered. His paw was gentle when he grasped her hoof.  
“That ewe would be proud of you, Officer.” She squared her shoulders and began walking after McHorn, who resumed leading the way to the courthouse doors.  
XX  
Nick and Judy had sat for what seemed like forever, as the ZPD's Public Relations Officer and the “Jury Doctor” that the city had hired for the Bellwether trial went over what was expected of them. Mayor Bingham had gotten into office on the promise that predator and prey would never be pitted against each other as they had in the past. The water buffalo was determined that the trial should run smoothly, and the night howler incident laid to rest.  
Chief Bogo had warned his best officers that part of the Mayor's new policy would be to shine as much light on them as partners as possible. Already they had posed for recruitment posters. Nick and Judy were plastered on the side of every bus in Zootopia, with his arm draped over her shoulders and both grinning widely. The caption read, “Predator and prey, working for a better world.” It didn't hurt that the duo was already so comfortable together. The Committee on Inter Species Relations had compared them to an old married couple on more than one occasion, to which the pair just rolled their eyes, and went on with the business at paw.  
Jason Brahma, the consultant, had schooled Judy in the ins and outs of a trial. She had never been in front of a jury in her life, and somehow avoided jury duty since reaching age of majority. Lieutenant Ackerson, the ZPD PR mammal had been quick to point out the mistakes she had made at the press conference early in her career. A little seasoning, they felt, would go a long way into making her more effective in the public spot light.  
“Remember, press conference 101 will not work in the court room.” Ackerson glared at the fox, seated next to Judy. “Don't try to deflect a question. You have to give straight forward, instant responses to whatever is asked. When in doubt, give the shortest answer possible. The D.A will follow up if more information is needed.” Brahma, a huge red furred bull in a tweed suit nodded as the antelope gave his instructions.  
“As for you, Officer Wilde, we have to fight public perception of foxes as it is. Keep any personal thoughts to yourself as regards Bellwether, the jurors or the justice system in general.” Brahma had been warned by Bogo just how much of a hoof full the fox could be when he started being “witty” as Nick liked to think of it. “You play poker?”  
“I've been known to play a paw or two.”  
Judy just about lost it. The other week, she had sat and watched as her partner and Finnick had managed to wipe the table with three opponents, one a professional gambler, another was a junior with the District Attorney's office they had gotten to know. The fifth at the table had been none other than Gideon Grey. He'd been in the city, checking out a possible retail deal for himself and the Hopps family. Surprisingly, he had managed to break even, and Judy suspected the other foxes of going easy on him because of the relationship with Judy. At the table, Nick had taken the fine art of never letting mammals see they got to him to a whole new level. Only their months together allowed her to catch anything he was thinking.  
“Fine. Straight face when answering questions then. When you get on and off the stand, I want to see some of that charm you are so famous for.” The bull thought about it for a moment. “Just try to keep it down a bit. We don't want you coming off as smarmy.”  
Ackerson rose from his chair. “Final thought, I know that you two rely on each other out in the field. This is not the time or place for that. You cannot look at each other before answering a question. That just looks like police collusion.”  
With that, Nick and Judy had left the ZPD building and walked across to the courthouse. They bantered with each other along the way, just being themselves, and trying to get over the nervousness. The press tried to get their attention as they went up the steps, but they simply repeated the phrase, “No comment at this time.” over and over again. By the time they had gotten through the doors, both were beginning to feel a little winded.  
“To think, the trial hasn't even started!” the rabbit mused. She took moment to collect herself. “I don't know if I'm going to make it.”  
“Relax, Carrots. Just play your part. As much as I like to gripe about the system, it works, for the most part. Is it perfect? No, no it isn't. Still, if we do our part, the guilty go away for a while, and we go back on patrol. Once the jury has the evidence and testimony, it's out of our paws.” Nick looked into Judy's face and placed his own paws on her shoulders. “You'll be fine. Let the press sort itself out.”  
Judy felt a lot better, and reached up and fixed her partner's tie, again. A couple of the court clerical staff paused in the lobby to watch, before going about their own duties.  
“Thanks, Slick.”  
They proceeded down the hall to the court room that had been assigned for the trial of Dawn Bellwether.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was inspired by a review, and an argument that I had with myself while writing the previous. In the wee hours of the morning, the characters, most notably Wolford and Delgato stole into my room and started whispering in my ear. It stayed with me.  
> I plan to use a quote or two from various movies, as appropriate.  
> Veronica Hamel portrayed Joyce Davenport, the public defender often assigned cases out of the Hill Street Precinct.  
> XX  
> 

Who's Side...  
The prisoner had been taken to the small room attached to the court where her trial was due to begin within the hour. She had meekly followed McHorn, and met her defense counsel at the door. A tall, thin vixen, Joyce Hamel was dressed in a simple gray suit jacket pulled over a blouse and skirt.  
When she saw the blood on Bellwether's cheek, she startled. "What happened out there? I thought the ZPD was going to be protecting my client." She reached into her pockets, looking for something to clean her with. "What ever happened to the presumption of innocence? Wait a minute, I forgot just what kind of city I work in." As a fox, she was no stranger to discrimination and hate. After all, as a public defender, she made her living using a quick tongue and an even quicker mind to see accused criminals avoid justice.  
John Wolford reached into a pocket of the vest that he wore, and pulled out a handkerchief he always carried. It was one of the things his father had told him every male should have at all times. He used some water from a nearby drinking fountain to moisten it and handed it to the vixen.  
"They did protect me." Bellwether told Hamel. "This isn't mine. It came from the wolf who threw himself over me and took the rock meant for my head." She looked at John while Hamel tried to scrub away the crimson stain.  
So did the rest of the detail. McHorn and Fangmeyer had not been able to see their comrade or their prisoner in any detail yet. Only now did they see the cut on Wolford's scalp and where it had begun to dry on the ewe's cheek. Delgato had a hard look on his face. From his position in the rear of the diamond formation, he had seen everything that happened, including the arctic wolf breaking procedure and speaking with the prisoner. His tail lashed and he glared daggers at the sheep.  
Wolford approached and indicated to Dawn that she should extend her hooves. Slipping the key from a pocket, he removed his pawcuffs and put them away in their place on his belt. He returned the key to his pocket and went back to his place with the other officers. The attorney opened the door to the small room where the bailiff was waiting.  
"My apologies, officer." Joyce said to the wolf, as she urged her client through the portal.  
Just as the latch clicked into place, Lieutenant Hunter strode down the hall, his hooves beating a military cadence on the polished floors. He liked to maintain the bearing he'd acquired back in the marine corps. He approached the officers in front of the door. As one, they came to attention and saluted. He waved them off.  
“Good work, Wolford. You were quick on your feet out there, and got the job done. Don't know that I'd have taken the hit though. Bloody sheep is more trouble than she's worth.” The warthog looked at the door of the room behind the team from Precinct One. “Go get yourself cleared by the medic.” He indicated the EMT that stood at the end of the hall. “The rest of you were good out there too. Good coverage. If you'll excuse me, I have to go have a word with my people. That rock should never have gotten out of the wolf's paw.”  
John went as ordered and sat on a bench while the medic cleaned the blood that had begun to clot up and crust behind his ear. Fortunately, it had only been a glancing blow. Stitches wouldn't be needed. The elk wiped some sterilizing liquid over the cut, making the wolf wince with its sting, and then covered the wound with a gauze pad, even though it had long since stopped bleeding. As he was taking off his gloves, he asked if pain relievers were necessary. Wolford just stood up and shook his head, returning to duty.  
Delgato looked over Wolford. “What is the matter with you? Should have let the rock go, mammal. Don't tell my you're soft on that sheep. That monster was out to get all of us preds.” The lion's tail was thrashing again. “Who's side are you on?”  
“Get off it, Miguel. I'm not 'soft' on her. You heard the lawyer. Innocent until proven guilty.” He looked at the lion. “I don't agree with what she did. She hurt a lot of animals for the sake of getting into the mayor's office. Not just predators either. Twenty-two prey mammals were seriously hurt when the Night Howler attacks were going on. But she wasn't born a criminal. We make our own monsters.”  
The lion looked ready to continue the debate.  
“I don't know about you, but I took an oath when I put this badge on. I swore to protect and serve. I don't recall anything about prey versus pred being anywhere in there.”  
Fangmeyer hissed at the both of them. She angled her head down the hall, to where two forms in blue were approaching.  
XX  
Judy was still working through her trepidation at testifying before a jury, before a city. It was never going to be easy for her, but she had learned from her mistakes, and the briefing by Lieutenant Ackerson had helped to avoid a few gaffes she might have made today. The telling thing, however, was the presence of her partner. She might not be allowed to look at him, once she was on the stand, but just knowing that he was in the room could make the difference between a clear statement of facts and another disaster.  
Now and then, Nick would lean over and pat the bunny on her shoulder. He was just as nervous as she was, but, in typical Wilde fashion, refused to let anyone see it was getting to him. After all, he had been talking himself out of trouble from the time he was twelve. Right up until a certain officer in a clown car with a mission managed to get him talking too much. Tax evasion, really? Still, with Judy, things seemed to come out for the better, eventually. Maybe there really was something to the story about luck rabbits feet. Or it could just be the eternal optimism and never say die attitude of his little friend.  
When they reached the doors, McHorn casually reached over and opened the right side portal for his colleagues. Nick looked up and nodded.  
Walking down the aisle, they took seats just behind the prosecution table. The Assistant District Attorney, a goat by the name of Marcus Giovanni, was sitting at the table. He had taken the depositions for the trial. His boss, Zootopia's District Attorney Jennifer Clawfoot, had decided that it would look better, in terms of public relations, if a prey mammal handled the trial. There could be no question of malicious intent, or conflict of interest. The cheetah had been appointed to the office when it was discovered her predecessor had been quietly working for Bellwether's plans against Leodore Lionheart.  
At that moment, the door to the small anteroom the ewe had been waiting in opened. The bailiff walked her over to the table, along with the vixen who was representing her. They sat and whispered back and forth, while Hamel spread out her notes and other materials in front of her on the long table. She spared a glance at the two officers behind and to the right of her, before reaching over and shaking hands with Giovanni. They had come up against each other, and had a healthy respect for each other. More importantly, they knew how good they each were at what they did.  
The bailiff walked over to another door, and opened it, ushering in the twelve mammals that had been waiting on the other side. They filed into the jury box. It was a mixed bag of predators and prey, as well as size. They took their seats.  
Walking over to his customary post next to the chamber door, the bailiff saw the knob begin to turn. "All rise. City of Zootopia versus Dawn Bellwether is now in session. The honorable Judge Joseph Fieldsman, presiding."  
Everyone rose to their feet as the door to the judge's chambers opened. An middle-aged skunk walked out, shuffling documents adjusting his bifocals. His dark fur had begun the process of going gray, turning a more russet color. His stripes, once a bright white, were showing tinges of yellow. He shuffled slightly, with an awkward gait. By virtue of sheer repetition, he climbed the steps to the bench without looking up form the papers, and into the special chair, which rose at the touch of a button, so that he was actually looking down at the tables before him.  
"Oh no, not Fieldsman!" Nick moaned, just barely audible. The bunny next to him, obviously, was able to hear it.  
"What's wrong?" She looked at nick, her ears swiveled toward him.  
"Um, I've... met this judge before." The fox's ears flattened on his head and his tail tried to slide between his legs, the seat of his chair getting in its way. "It was before we met. I was busted on a fraud charge in a business I was running."  
"By business, you mean hustle, right?"  
"No, this was a legitimate business. I was retailing some watches. They were knock offs of a top of the line Rolex. I'd set up shop down the street from a high end jewelry place. They called the cops saying I was swindling people." Nick frowned. "Thing is, I was advertising my watches as not being the real thing, but good enough for the average mammal. Judge Fieldsman was inclined to see me as nothing but a con-mammal." He flicked his eyes to his left, just marginally. "I was lucky to have a good public defender."  
"Be seated." The judge adjusted his glasses. He looked at the attorneys before him. "The court will come to order. Is the prosecution ready to begin?"  
"Marcus Giovanni for the City, your honor. We are ready."  
"Defense?"  
"Joyce Hamel for the defense, your honor. We are ready."  
"Read the charges please, Mr. MacDonald."  
The court clerk, a puma, held up the docket. "Dawn K. Bellwether is charged with twenty-eight counts of conspiracy to commit assault with a toxin, twenty two counts of complicity in aggravated assault, one count of assault with a toxin and once count attempted homicide." There were murmurs around the room when the last charge was read. It had been suspected that the ewe would be charged with assault on police officers at the very least, for her actions at the Natural History Museum.  
"How does the defendant plead?"  
The vixen rose to her feet. "On behalf of my client, I am authorized to plead not guilty, your honor."  
"Very well. We will hear opening statements."  
XX  
"Okay, Fran, I'll bite. Just who are you thinking we can get inside information from?" Greg Addison took a bite of his tuna sandwich.  
The bear and elephant had stopped at a small family run diner in a little neighborhood on the edge of Sahara Square. Small was something that Francine Trunkaby's body type accentuated. Fortunately, the diner had a booth with a movable bench at one end, so that she could be seated comfortably as she forked her massive salad into her mouth, chewing slowly and carefully, enjoying the mixed greens. Judy Hopps had actually introduced her to the place, when they had shared a patrol for a week, at the beginning of the rabbit's career.  
"Hopps and Wilde have a guy they keep busting for petty stuff." She reached into the bowl and speared a cherry tomato. "He's not the most trustworthy guy out there, but if something happens on the streets, Weaselton knows about it. I figure, if they can catch him at something, they can offer to look the other way for an anonymous tip."  
The polar bear swallowed the mouthful and thought about it. True, there wasn't that much honor among thieves, especially petty criminals that were actively competing for a piece of the pie. His cousin Jimmy had said that informants saved an awful lot of time and footwear. You couldn't take that kind of information into court, but it could lead you to something that was admissible.  
"So, do we go and wait for them to get out of the trial, or go back to the office?" He toyed with the idea of eating the pickle he had put on the side of his plate, and decided against it. They gave him severe heartburn.  
"I don't know about you, but I don't want to risk getting caught up in paperwork until I have to." the pachyderm replied. "Why don't we take a page from the thieves book, and case a few stores? They seem to be targeting the areas between Arid Avenue and Oasis Way. I figure, we drive around and look for alleys that look like they would fit our profile."  
"As long as you don't expect me to check out any high windows, I'm in."  
"What's the matter, kid? You afraid of heights?" Francine reached out with her fork and stole the lonely looking pickle, having finished the garden salad.  
"No, just falling from them."  
The pair laughed as Greg signaled for the check, waving off his partner as she reached for her own wallet.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been doing some editing. You won't need to go back and start over. When I started this venture it was a quick and dirty placeholder, unfortunately. Sloppy writing on my part. Bad grammar, typos and the occasional use of hand where paw was more appropriate. Nothing that would change the story.  
> There is a quick reference to a standing gag from Night Court, which most of you out there should be fairly familiar with.  
> 

Will the Real Duke Please Stand Up  
1530 The Zootopia Courthouse  
Officers Trunkaby and Addison were sitting on the benches outside of the courtroom when Judy and Nick finally exited. More precisely, Greg was sitting on the bench, and Francine was half perched on it, her massive frame taking up almost half of the length of the long piece of furniture. They both rose and approached their colleagues before the assembled members of the press could converge on them.  
"How'd it go, Judy?" The elephant reached down with her trunk and adjusted her equipment belt.  
"Nothing but opening statements. Ben warned me the trial for a case this big might take a while, but I had no idea!" The bunny's left foot began kicking on the floor, her claws making a distinct tapping noise. "I'd almost feel better doing paper work, or, dare I say it, parking duty."  
"She'll get used to it." Nick bumped fists with the rookie polar bear. "She'll learn how to use the time to her benefit." He looked up at Francine. "I think I got a pretty good read on the jury while the lawyers were blabbing." The fox had divided his attention between the jury box and the defense attorney's table. The latter he had tried to keep discreet.  
"What brings the two of you down here?" By now Judy's foot had stopped tapping. Her whole body was shaking visibly now. It was as if she were trying to jump out of her own fur. Bunnies were little bundles of raw energy and emotion. Sitting so still for so long was playing on her nerves something awful. Besides which, her blood sugar levels were down. The short lunch break the court had taken had not been nearly enough for a species that was evolved to graze.  
"It's our case with Detective Bruin. We need to get a feel for where the loot might be going. Do you think your favorite prisoner might be able to give us anything?"  
Nick and Judy looked at each other. There was a moment of silence as if they were conferring with one another, but not a word was spoken. After a few moments of... whatever it was, Judy slightly arched an eyebrow and Nick shrugged ever so slightly.  
"We'll go down to holding before we sign out." Judy finally said aloud. "No promises, he's pretty slick. Gives weasels a worse name than the guy Dad plays cards with."  
"Thanks guys." Trunkaby said. "We can check in with you in the morning."  
XX  
In the small side room that she had been taken into when she entered the courthouse, Dawn Bellwether was going over the opening round of the trial with her attorney, being granted a few moments before she would be shuttled back to the prison. This time and in future, she would be moved in and out of the building via the sally port and the prisoners route.  
"I think the fact that some animal threw a rock at you spells out just how you must feel about the way you and other prey have been treated in the past. The fact that a wolf jumped to your aid is telling as well, both about you and him." Joyce Hamel was inclined to take every advantage that came her way. She had known going in that winning the case was pretty much out of the question. Sure, she would try her hardest, but the facts were all there. At best she could turn them around to get some reasonable doubt on some of the charges.  
This was the very reason the ewe had been forced to accept a public defender. There simply weren't any firms that had been willing to take on such a high profile case where the outcome was so much a forgone conclusion.  
"He's different from what I'm used to, that officer. Predators are usually big and loud, intimidating us sheep." Dawn had been bullied fiercely as a child by a large timber wolf in her class. The teacher had never been bothered to do anything about the situation, which her father had declared (not realizing his young lamb could hear him from her room) was because she too was from a predator species.  
"Look, I don't like what you did, or why, but I will see to it that your get a fair shake." The vixen was a little annoyed still with hearing that line from her client about how predators behaved. She'd encountered enough species-ism in her own life. She really didn't need it being shoved into her muzzle. "Remember, just keep your head as high as you can in the courtroom, and no matter what any mammal out there says, you don't react."  
There was a quick tap at the back door to the room, the one which led to the holding cells and the prisoner loading dock. Hamel went and opened it. On the other side, Officers Wolford and Delgato were waiting. In the hall, Fangmeyer and McHorn stood a couple of paces away facing down each direction of the hall.  
Wolford held out a paw, showing the cuffs he had removed from his belt. The ewe looked pointedly at the bandage still taped behind his ear. She cast her eyes to the pawcuffs and put her own hooves forward. As the metal snapped shut around her wrists, she quietly whispered "I'm sorry." to the officer. He merely looked down into her face and nodded fractionally. The vixen took in her client's changed behavior for a moment and then began packing her notes into the satchel which sat on a chair in the room.  
The pair of uniformed officers took the prisoner from the room and the group formed up into the same formation they had taken going into the building that morning. McHorn in the lead. As he passed by Bellwether, Delgato gave her a shove meant to put her into the center as Fangmeyer turned and came up on her right side. It was overly rough, and the ewe stumbled slightly, almost bouncing into the tiger.  
“C'mon, Delgato, that wasn't necessary. Remember the rules, no contact with the prisoner.” Wolford visibly bristled at the lion. They had been partners for some time now. The white canine was seriously considering putting in for a new one. While not outright specist, the cat was definitely more aggressive with prey animals.  
“Says the guy who talked with her this morning.”  
McHorn rumbled under his breath. He was beginning to lose patience with the two other males assigned to this duty. “As Bogo would say, shut it, animals. We have a job to do. Let's just get it done so I can get out of this vest and shove some food down my neck.” The rhino paused just long enough to stare over his shoulder at Wolford and Delgato.  
Lieutenant Hunter and his team met them at the loading dock. The doors of the transport were already level with the platform, so McHorn merely pulled off to the right while Fangmeyer and Wolford ushered the little sheep in ahead of them. She took the seat she had been in, and waited patiently while the tiger shackled her cuffed paws to the short chain that was bolted to the bench frame, and then proceeded to do up the safety restraints.  
Once McHorn was assured the the prisoner was secured, he closed the back doors and locked them, slamming his large hoof three times on the one panel. He waited until he heard the click of the wolf's key on the other side, and the responding three thumps from within. He then jumped with a significant thud to the concrete of the garage floor and got into the vehicle next to the driver.  
It was a long, silent ride back to the prison, with a sheep deep in her own thoughts, and the two males on board glaring at each other once in a while.  
XX  
Nick walked his partner over to one of the medium sized vending machines in the lobby. Reaching into a pocket, he pulled out a few coins and made a selection. He stooped down and retrieved the compressed alfalfa bar and handed it to her. Judy tore the tough wrapper open with her teeth while he put a few more coins in the slot and chose his own snack. He probably could have waited until supper, but it might be a while yet. Besides, Judy tended to be a little self-conscious about eating alone.  
“I think maybe I should have first go at Duke, Carrots. You know, one hustler to another?”  
The press was still waiting for them down by the front doors, hoping to get at least a couple of sound bites for hungry editors who were breathing down their necks for every last detail that could be poured into the next morning edition or played on the news broadcasts. There were a number of audible groans when the pair turned the other way, moving further into the bowels of the vast building.  
“A surprisingly articulate idea there, slick. He's not exactly my number one fan, is he?” Judy chewed vociferously on her bar. They tended to leave little bits stuck in her teeth, something she always forgot until she looked into a mirror. Nick had never mentioned it, though she assumed he thought it was funny.  
“You'd be surprised there. You've never really come down on him too hard, a lot easier than some of the guys from over on the third, from what I hear.” Nick took a bite of the cherry flavored turkey jerky he was eating. “Word has it he was actually impressed with how you managed to catch him and save Fru-fru that first time you met. First time he'd ever been run down on foot.”  
“Yeah, but I'll never get him to admit that to my face.”  
“Well, that's a given, sweetheart.” Nick popped her lightly on the top of the head.  
By this time, they had gone down in the elevator to the holding area. It happened that Duke Weaselton was due to stand before the court that day for a hearing. Given the trivial nature of the misdemeanors he was charged with, he would probably be handed a fine and time served. Standing joke was that just about every minor offender had been sent out on an exchange that went:  
“Charges from the prosecution?”  
“The usual.”  
“Defense?”  
“The usual, your honor.”  
“Alright, then, the usual. Fifty dollars and time served!” Slamming of the gavel.  
XX  
Duke had indeed been released, though given how often he had been in lately, the fine had been increased to Fifty-four dollars and sixty cents. Seems the cost of supper for overnight holding had gone up, and the city was being very conscientious about every cent being spent.  
While he was waiting to get his few meager possessions back from the officer in charge of personal effects, he saw the two officers in dress blues headed his way. He chuckled inwardly at the discomfort that the uniform caused the fox. Every now and then the two had crossed paths in their various operations. When he'd gone over to the opposition a few months back, it had been something akin to betrayal to Duke's way of thinking. He was still holding a small grudge about the threatened icing, though he suspected the rabbit never would have let him get away with it.  
“Hey Wesselton, we'd like a quick word with you!”  
“C'mon, Officer Fluff, a game is a game, but this is getting downright distoibing.”  
Nick nudged his partner on the shoulder. She just grinned at him. He wasn't the only one with a sense of humor. The short stroll and snack had improved her outlook considerably.  
“Look, Duke, we just want to talk. After that, we'll gladly drop you off wherever you want.”  
“I ain't gon be seen hanging around with no cops. Bad for business.” Duke roughly grabbed the small bag of items the pig behind the half door of the effects locker had finally finished going through on the inventory list. It was still better than dealing with the sloths down at the DMV.  
“Fine.” Nick turned to said pig. “Got a quiet room we can borrow for just a couple minutes?”  
The pig pointed to a small break room just down the hall. Judy nodded her thanks and herded the weasel into it before he could begin to complain. Nick shut the door behind them and grabbed a chair, sitting on it backward, his arms draped over the back.  
“Look, like you pointed out, the game is starting to get old, and you have a business to run. It's our job to shut you down. How about we play a little ball here and see if we can't pull off a small hustle for old time's sake?” He pulled off his shades and let the scrawny male see he was actually serious.  
Duke looked at him with a lot of doubt. This was Slick Nick, even if he was wearing a badge. He didn't trust the todd any further than he could have thrown an elephant. He turned his eyes to Judy. She was an open book, if ever there was one. Could have made a killing playing poker against her. He gave it a little thought. She was a by the book officer. If she gave her word, she kept it.  
There were several moments of silence.  
Finally Duke pulled himself out of his usual slouch. It made him look at least an inch and a half taller. The scrawny little thief was replaced with a slender, calculating young mammal. If he hadn't been wearing the same baggy jeans and wife-beater shirt that they were so used to, Nick and Judy would have a hard time believing he was the same animal they had arrested just the day before.  
“Alright, this is the deal.” Gone was the Zootopian-Italian accent. “I deal only with the two of you. Nothing ever gets traced back to me, and we don't meet in public unless you are actually arresting me.”  
The officers just stared at him for a moment. Judy opened and closed her mouth a few times. When it opened for the last time, what came out was a hearty laugh. It was long and loud, to the point that tears began streaming down her muzzle and she had to sit down. She started to hiccup slightly and Duke just smirked. She got it! She got it good!  
Nick was starting to worry about his partner's sanity.  
“He hustled us, Nick! How many times have I told you, anyone can be anything?” She took a deep breath and slapped a paw on the table a couple of times.  
“Everyone needs a gimmick out there.” Weaselton said simply. “If they think I'm an uneducated slob, they don't think I can possibly have connections to get what I want. They assume that they are taking advantage of a moron.” It had been working for the better part of an octade now. It was all window dressing. His mother had been a prop assistant on some television productions back when Duke was a boy.  
“So, what is it you want? Whatever it is, it most certainly isn't going to come cheaply.”


End file.
